


To Dream a Dream

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2019-2020 NHL Season, Detroit Red Wings, Gen, Hair Brushing, I support them, M/M, i do think the boys are doing the best they can, maybe a lil use of pet names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21614641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tyler and Dylan discuss their so far abysmal 2019-2020 season.
Relationships: Dylan Larkin/Tyler Bertuzzi
Kudos: 9
Collections: Anonymous





	To Dream a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Crack fic, just a bit of fun, really. Have only been a hockey fan for a month and somehow managed to choose a team that isn't doing well. Enjoy it, Hydrus.

The stadium was electric as Dylan held the Stanley Cup above his head. He was sure his first thought should have been, ‘omg we won’ but in fact was, ‘damn, this is actually pretty heavy’. Confetti was flittering from the ceiling and everywhere, everyone was yelling “RED WINGS! RED WINGS!”

All around were his teammates cheering him on, all eager to hoist the cup up above his head too. He got the right to hold it up first because of his game winning goal in the final seconds of overtime against the Chicago Blackhawks. They clutched it with a cool 4-3. 

One ecstatic face that beamed to him and drew him out of his euphoria was Bertuzzi. Tyler’s gap toothy smile was so wide that Dylan’s mouth drew open into an even wider grin himself. “We did it, Dy! We did it!” Tyler’s hands we above his, holding his stick pointing high into the sky.

“We sure did, Ty! We sure did!” They laughed as everyone around him cheered. Noticing the camera was focusing on him, Dylan motioned to Tyler to take the cup. “Tyler, take it!”

Bertuzzi laughed as he accepted the cup, murmuring a slight ‘shit’ as he bore the weight of the cup. As Bertuzzi was a whole two centimetres shorter than Larkin, there was the two centimetres of momentum that pulled down on Tyler. With his arms free, Larkin grabbed the nearest person into a hug, Andreas Athanasiou. 

Tyler held up the cup as high as he could. Since his first career NHL goal against the Blackhawks in 2018, he had been itching for this moment. For the moment he was a champion. He felt a twinge in his heart when he saw Dylan pull Andreas into the hug. That should be him. He looked around to the person who wanted it next. Mantha was cheering him on, so he offered it to him. Anthony yelled in celebration as he took it. 

With his arms free, Tyler waded his way through the cheering Wings to Dylan. Dylan had let go of Andreas at this point and was in prime position to be grabbed by Tyler. The two hugged each other fiercely, almost crying as the gravity of what they had accomplished washed over them. They patted each other on the back firmly and then let go. They looked into each others’ eyes and for the moment, Dylan forgot the rest of the world existed…

“Earth to Larkin, Earth to Larkin. You there buddy?” Dylan found himself snapped to the present. The present where they had not, in fact, won the Stanley Cup. The present where they were in fact in an eight game losing streak. 

Bertuzzi threw a bundled up pair of socks at him, it bounced off his chest pads and landed on the floor. Dylan stared at it before picking it up. “Thanks, Tyler. But I don’t need them.” He thought about throwing them back but decided on top of his stall was a better idea. 

“Hey!” exclaimed Tyler, realising the socks might be out of his reach. “What planet were you on there, bud? You seemed a little distracted.” Dylan looked around and realised they were the last in the changing room. Every other Red Wing had gotten dressed, endured their awkward post game interview and taken their leave. It was only him and Bertuzzi. And he had been daydreaming hugging Bertuzzi. Oh no.

“You’re still in your gear, Dylan. Do you…do you need a hand?” Tyler was right. He had only taken his jersey off. Ripped it off, more realistically after the latest shameful loss. He still wore his skates, pants and padding. 

Dylan let out a chuckle, not quite meaning it. “I mean, you could help me out of my pants. They are awfully tight.” Tyler, standing near him, took a step back.

“I mean, I can if you really want, but….” He sounded awkward, poor guy.

“Just kidding, bud. We both know you wouldn’t dare land a hand on me.” Dylan started to unstrap the padding, leaving him bare-chested. 

“Oh if we were on opposite teams I’d check you into the boards every chance I got.” They both had a good laugh about it as Dylan continued to undress. Bertuzzi sat down in the stall next to him, suddenly looking serious. A few moments of awkward silence filled the air as each decided how it should be filled. 

“Dylan, I don’t mean to bother you if you don’t want to talk about it, but is everything okay?” Tyler was looking down as he asked, as if he was unsure if he should ask. Dylan, untying his skate, paused. What should he say?

“Tyler…everything is alright.” He got out at last. He sighed, placing the first skate in his duffel.

“Is it really? Come on Dylan, I know we are doing badly. Is that getting to you?” With the look on Tyler’s face, Dylan knew the other was aware of how dumb a question it was.

Dylan felt his blood pressure suddenly rise. “What do you think? We just lost 6-1 to the Flyers, right after losing 6-0 to the Leafs. We’re shit, Tyler, we’re shit.” In that moment of anger, he threw his second skate and immediately regretted it.

Tyler jumped back, not wanting to be sliced and diced. Watching his teammate carefully, he sat down in the stall next to Larkin’s. “I know we aren’t doing as well as we should. But it’s not just you. It’s...all of us. It’s hard…none of us became professionals to lose all the time. We’re all better than this it’s just…I don’t know what’s happening. My uncle…my uncle is disappointed in me.” 

Dylan realised then that of course the most recent loss was bearing down on all of them. And Tyler…Tyler’s uncle had a fearsome reputation as a hockey player. That must be weighing down on him heavily. He had to change his mindset, not just for his sake, but for Bertuzzi’s too.

“So we play better. We play harder.” Tyler looked up at his teammate, his friend. His long blond locks falling over his deep blue eyes. Dylan hated seeing those oceans so sad. “The two of us. We can practice harder. We can’t give up. This isn’t just our job, but our life. You aren’t just my teammate or my friend, you are my family. 

Tyler smiled, but without showing his teeth. He never did. Though he looked ever y part the hockey player by missing teeth, Dylan could tell it bothered him. His long hair continued to hang over his face so Dylan hesitantly reached over and brushed it out of Tyler’s face. “You don’t need to hide your teeth, Tyler. I think…I think you have a beautiful smile”. Dylan could see the confusion in Tyler’s face. 

“I…I don’t know what to say, Dylan.” Tyler looked straight into the eyes of his teammate. “I don’t know what.”

“Then… don’t say anything at all, Ty.” Dylan could see he won as Tyler’s mouth turned into a wide smile, proudly showing off his gap tooth and Dylan gave him a full toothy grin in return. “We didn’t win today, and we might not win tomorrow. Or the week after next. Or this season at all. None of that matters, because we will win one day. “

Tyler nodded, “just imagine one day. You, me the other boys, holding up the Stanley Cup as the crowd roars.”

Dylan chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck shyly, “that’s actually what I was thinking before you assaulted me with socks.”

Tyler gasped, “no! Really?” He sat up straight laughing, “also, never call me ‘Ty’ ever again.”

“Yeah really and no worries,” answered Dylan, glad that that moment had passed as quickly as it started.

“And hang on, I didn’t assault you with socks…you were off in la la land and now you have up and yeeted my socks into the next reality.” Tyler gestured above his stall in the narrow gap where his socks had somehow disappeared. 

“Not my fault” mockingly laughed Dylan. The two fell silent as they stared up where the socks had gone. Finally, Tyler broke the silence.

“You really think we can win the Cup?” Dylan took a while before answering. 

“You know, I don’t think we will make it to the playoffs this season. But next season….next season we will be ready. We will train harder and longer. But this season, we leave everything on the ice. We play as well as we can.”

“We play as well as we can,” echoed Tyler, nodding. “Tomorrow, with the Caps, we play hard. Let’s throw everything that Ovi will throw at us back and more. I mean, it’s not like we can get any worse than we already have. We are already at a -50 goal differential against the next worse team.” 

“Hey, I heard we’re apparently the fastest to -50 in the last 20 years. So there’s that,” added Dylan.

“Good to know we’re making history, then,” laughed Tyler.

Just then the door to the changing room swung open, revealing Robby Fabbri. The two were suddenly aware of how close they were sitting near each other. “Oh hey Rob,” rushed out Tyler as he tried to stand without looking suspicious. 

“Hey...you red wongs” Robby looked over the pair, suspecting something going on. “I just realised I forgot my keys...I’ll be out in a sec.”

“Nice goal, Robby,” stated Dylan approvingly as he resumed undressing.

“Yeah thanks, bud. Better than nothing. See you guys tomorrow morning.” He found his keys and waved to the pair on his way out. “And score next time, will you?” 

Suddenly Larkin and Bertuzzi were alone again. But the intimate moment they shared was over as Tyler’s phone beeped. “Oh it’s my girlfriend. Gotta run, Dylan.” He picked up his bag and made for the door. 

Dylan nodded, “yeah no worries Tyler. Have a good night, say hi to Ashley.” And he was gone. Dylan sat half undressed. He was tempted to slip back into his Stanley Cup fantasy, but he shook his head and laughed. In order to win in, they needed to make the playoffs and in order to make the playoffs, they needed to win games and in order to win games, they needed to score goals. He spoke softly “Tomorrow, I’ll score for you Ty, tomorrow.”


End file.
